


Chocolates for Two

by Kiyuomi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Ugly Sweaters, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, date, ive been here for over 2 hours clicking back on the 503 page someone help, late because ao3 won't let me upload, umbrella sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 15:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9768527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyuomi/pseuds/Kiyuomi
Summary: Seung Gil doesn’t like making big deals of little things.It’s purely because he likes being prepared that he organized a reservation. Just coincidence his umbrella, barely sizeable enough for two, is present for a possible afternoon shower. Simply by luck that he’s got a wrapped box of chocolates in his pocket.And of course, it’s just fate that he doesn’t know when to give it.





	

                Seung Gil doesn’t like making big deals of little things.

                Valentine’s day is a holiday like any other; he’s never been big on celebrating it, and he doesn’t understand the enthusiasm that somehow rises up mid-January. Despite only being one day of the month, it feels that the entire month of February is full to the brim with disgustingly mushy love stories, classic school dramas and of course, chocolate.

                To those that celebrate it, they are free to do what they like. Seung Gil just doesn’t care for it.

                “Eh? Is it raining?”

                But his boyfriend certainly does.

                “I have an umbrella,” Seung Gil sighs, showing the black handle to JJ. The two are luckily hidden away underneath one of the many umbrellas set up by the restaurant they’ve just come out from. Originally Seung Gil had planned for them to eat outside, intending on having the restaurant’s holiday specialty, some sparkler chocolate cake, set up mid table. Instead, the restaurant had closed their outside patio section for the day due to impending showers.

                It’s smart thinking, something Seung Gil would probably do himself upon viewing the weather reports and anticipating a rush of Valentine’s day couples.

                Still, even though he knew that JJ was more than happy to share the cake with him, the sparklers were nowhere near as impressive as they would have been under the umbrella shade.

                “It’s not very big,” Seung Gil explains as he presses down on the umbrella handle’s button, causing the folds of fabric to fly open against the rain. There’s minimal wind and the shower’s only meant to last an hour at the most, so Seung Gil had planned to take JJ to the local shopping outlet to wander. They would be window shopping under a light rain, walking side by side, possibly even shoulder brushing. From past experience, he knows that there’s bound to be something that catches JJ’s eyes, and it’s almost certain that they’re going to end up in some store, him dragged along, to watch his boyfriend strip out of wet clothes.

                He’s not blushing at the thought.

                “It’s big enough for the both of us,” JJ beams, and of course, immediately shuffles over to hang onto Seung Gil’s side. The footstep of room between the two vanishes, his leather shoes making a light splash in the growing puddles between the cobblestones and Seung Gil shifts his weight away, pretending he doesn’t feel the warmth that soaks into his body from the other, the smell of chocolate that lingers on his breath and those full, kissable lips that open with every word. “We’ll just walk close.” There’s a smudge of chocolate against his lower lips and Seung Gil is sorely tempted to lick it away.

                “Keep your distance,” he says instead.

                The rain pit-pats against the umbrella top, rolling down around them as they walk, step in step. Seung Gil doesn’t exactly know this neighborhood, but he spent enough time on google maps to estimate when and where to turn. There’s a loose cobblestone at the end of the block; he wobbles on it, umbrella slipping from his fingers, and in moments JJ’s on him, arms around and eyes widening even as he laughs, and Seung Gil can’t quite hear his teasing beneath the beat of his heart.

                He’s not a romantic.

                But he’d be a fool to turn away when JJ’s got a hand in his, fingers folded together, their thighs sliding together with fast steps and the clack of low heels against the stone ground. Seung Gil doesn’t mean to turn without warning, but he does and JJ squawks behind, hands hasty to wrap around his waist and follow. The sides of his shoulders are wet from trying to push the umbrella to cover Seung Gil’s side more, and it’s not only embarrassment that makes Seung Gil avert his eyes from the translucent fabric that clings to JJ’s skin.

                He’s really not a romantic.

                It’s purely because he likes being prepared that he organized a reservation. Just coincidence his umbrella, barely sizeable enough for two, is present for a possible afternoon shower. Simply by luck that he’s got a wrapped box of chocolates in his pocket.

JJ’s eyes are on the window displays; reds and pinks, golds and whites, all dolled up with ribbons and hearts and the big, blown up words “Happy Valentine’s Day” written all over. There isn’t a single store they’ve passed that hasn’t had a little extra decoration. There’s a rose, a chocolate display, and one store, a revolving stand featuring a single sparkling ring.

                Seung Gil already has his gift. He pats his left back pocket, feeling along the outline of the box. Until they met at the restaurant, he had simply held it in his hands, only hiding it under the outline of his sweater when seeing JJ. He had set it on his lap in the restaurant, ready to simply slide it over the table, but every chance he had to give the chocolate had flown by. A break in conversation, the moment the waiters cleaned up the table, or perhaps just before the desert arrived. It’s not like Seung Gil wants to dress up the occasion.

                He just wants to hand it over.

                “JJ—ah.”

                “Seung Gil, can we look around?” There’s no saying “no” to the smile that lights up the other’s face, the gentle curve of his lips and the way his eyes sparkle with the littlest things. There’s a small trail of water running from his hair down, wet and loose by the stray currents of rain. One of his hands is even on the doorknob already, just itching to wrap around it, but he doesn’t pull away from Seung Gil. He’s waiting, fingers still interlocked, for the cue.

                Really, is there any way for him not to say “yes”?

                “Sure.”

                It’s a clothing store decked to the ceilings with pink and red hearts. JJ darts to a section in the back as soon as they enter and Seung Gil simply huffs, shaking the umbrella again to let loose of the excess droplets. A shopkeeper gives him a look and he shuffles it once more, just because.

                “JJ,” he calls when the woman decides to start moving towards him, “what are you looking at?” As though on command, his Canadian boyfriend pops up from behind a rack of jackets, hands already busy pulling through the mess.

                “Look, isn’t this cute?” It being a hot pink and red fuzzy argyle sweater with two obnoxious ribbon ties for the back. Seung Gil can almost feel his face twitch, but he knows better than to question JJ’s taste. Instead, he shrugs.

                “It’s alright.” If that’s all, then they could just leave before the shop attendant came over.

                “Great! Try it on!” No.

                “No.” Seung Gil frowns, looking back to the sweater. It’s not bad, exactly, except it is.

                “Come on,” he’s not doing this. “Seung,” he really, absolutely, is not dealing with the inevitable scratchy fabric that comes with those sorts of fuzzy sweaters, “babe, honey.” Seung Gil will not, today or ever, wear something half as atrocious as that.

                “JJ,” he means to stare his fellow skater in the eye, determined to grab his hand and walk out, only to be met by hopeful eyes and a pinched pout. No, ugh, he doesn’t care. Seung Gil already did his part. He took time out of his day to reserve a table for two, took the time to memorize the routes to nearby entertainment and the time to test out his umbrellas for the perfectly sized one, and he has chocolates yet to give; he’s gone more than beyond what he had to. No matter what JJ manages to say, he knows that he’s not going to put on that sweater.

                “Seung Gil,” JJ murmurs, and his hands unfairly come up to poke at Seung Gil’s own, his index finger worming around his pinkie, hanging, “please?”

                “Fine.”

                That’s how Seung Gil ends up wearing the horrible mess that is the fuzzy argyle sweater. He’s fairly certain that it would have been easier to embrace a horrifying death on ice, but no, he’s here with the pushiest partner in the world.

                He slides open the dressing room curtains with a tad more force than necessary.

                To be met with JJ’s phone and a blinding flash.

                “You actually put it on! You look like a Valentine’s decoration!” JJ laughs. His phone shakes in his hands as he types out something with the tell-tale click and noise of a media post. Seung Gil is torn between punching his phone out of his hand or, well, punching his phone out of his hand.

                “This isn’t funny,” he grits out instead. His face must be particularly crossed because JJ just laughs harder, bending over to clench his stomach and hide his giggles. It’s infuriating and Seung Gil can just barely see the shop attendee out of the corner of his eye, watching. The fact that she’s not laughing is more worrying than satisfying. “I’m getting changed.”

                “No, no, babe!” It’s JJ’s hand on his face, his finger pressing against his lips, and Seung Gil can feel the blood rush upward. JJ’s eyes are almost teary and his face flushed with laughter, mouth still wide with breathless laughter as he eyes Seung Gil, his other hand finding its way to Seung Gil’s empty ones. It’s infuriating how easily JJ goes from annoying brat to gorgeous. “I like it. Seriously,” his voice dips as though secret, and when he winks, Seung Gil can almost feel his chest burst. “You’re cute.”

                “Be quiet.” He’d like to think he’s still mad. Between JJ’s gleeful humming and their hands locking together, fingers meeting and joining as though magnets, he can’t muster up the ability. Still, this sweater is an itchy abomination. “I’m still taking this off.”

                JJ whines but Seung Gil makes sure the curtain is firmly shut before peeling off the fuzzy thing. He’s midway pulling on his shirt when his hand brushes alongside his back pocket to a familiar square shape.

                Chocolates.

                He may as well give it now as he’s done changing. Hoisting the sweater over his arm and opening the curtain with a flourish, he fishes out the ribbon wrapped box.

                “JJ,” Seung Gil starts, only to be met with the shop attendant’s flushed face. He pauses, raising an eyebrow, looking around to register that his boyfriend went missing in the minute that he was away. “JJ,” he calls again, ducking around the worker. “JJ?”

                “Yeah?”

                The curtain to his right flips open to reveal the person in question. Except he’s suddenly much less clothed, clearly in the middle of pulling down a top. It’s bundled up around his armpits, exposing a familiar expanse of skin, now wet from the rain. Seung Gil knows better than to avert his eyes, but he also knows better than to trace the faint trails of water still present against the bare muscles.

                “No, never mind.” Chocolate is a bit less important than ensuring his boyfriend gets changed in peace, away from peeping shopkeepers.

                The rain had long ended by the end they emerge from the boutique, JJ carrying a sizable shopping bag. There’s a sinking feeling in Seung Gil that the argyle sweater he threw in the worn rack had somehow made its way back to the register.

                Or maybe it’s just because he’s reading the price of it as he scans the receipt.

                “Hmmm,” JJ stretches, sighing happily as his arms latch onto Seung Gil as though instinctual, “I haven’t shopped like that in forever.” Their heads bump as they walk but neither take a step away.

                “You’re so girly,” Seung Gil simply responds, eyes back on the receipt. He doesn’t recall JJ hoisting this many items to the front desk. Raising an eyebrow, he pokes under JJ’s arm, hand burrowing until the shopping bag only to be met with a wide, plastic disk. It’s flat, maybe an inch high, and when his fingers manage to latch onto it, it crinkles with a startling familiarity.

                “Am I?” Seung Gil knows this voice. “Did you know that in Japan, only girls give Valentine’s chocolate?” He did this to himself. Wordless, he pulls the disk upward, revealing a heart shaped box of assorted chocolates, with a tacky pink dog keychain taped to the ribbon wrapping. The chocolates are all labeled varying degrees of dark by 70-100%. It’s disgustingly sweet.

                “Happy Valentine’s Day, Seung Gil.”

                JJ’s disgustingly sweet.

                “Thanks,” he can’t quite imagine the tone he’s using, or the face he’s making. Valentine’s day is a bother in all its propaganda, it’s skyrocketing romantic prices and the excessive usage of hearts and frilly details everywhere. There isn’t a place he can escape from it.

                Seung Gil doesn’t like making big deals of little things.

                Maybe just this once.

                “JJ,” he’s pulling out the chocolates, feeling over the textured grosgrain ribbon and there’s a pounding in his body, “here.”

                “Seung Gil!” JJ’s turned away, sparkling as he points to a cart full of heart balloons across the street. There’s a crowd of people there, nearly all couples, hands conjoined and feet knocking. Music, something classical, plays over their speaking. He can barely see the peak of someone in the center of the crowd and near the cart, hands waving. “Look, what’s happening there?”

                Seung Gil likes to believe he doesn’t care about Valentine’s.

                He wants to think that it’s purely because he likes being prepared that he organized a reservation. He can convince himself that it’s just coincidence that his umbrella, barely sizeable enough for two, is present for a possible afternoon shower. Somehow, simply by luck, he’s got a wrapped box of chocolates in his pocket.

                He can’t quite lie and say that he’s not irritated that the chocolates are still in his pocket.

                “JJ.”

               The Canadian skater startles, turning with that same sunny grin he’d been sporting the same day. From the moment Seung Gil picked him up, to the reveal of the chosen restaurant, to the sparkler chocolate, and then to the shopping. From their interlocked fingers to their brushing shoulders, sparking from their toes to their ears, something ignites in Seung Gil.

                It might be frustration; it might be more.

                Their lips meet.

                The shopping tote crinkles between their body. Seung Gil can feel his umbrella swinging, uselessly bumping between their thighs. JJ’s shirt is mostly dry, but there’s a just barely present moisture beneath his fingers. The heart shaped chocolates, still clutched in his arms, jabs awkwardly as he moves in closer.

                It’s not their best kiss.

                Somehow, glancing at the dazed expression that passes over JJ’s face, it’s a pretty good one.

                “Here,” after all that, Seung Gil drops the rectangular wrapped box into the shopping bag, rolling his eyes as JJ lights up again. It’s too easy to spark energy in the other. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

                After all the effort he’s had to go through for a single date, Seung Gil is fairly certain he doesn’t want to touch anything Valentine’s related again with a ten-meter pole. That’s including the sweater hiding in the bag. He will not, absolutely, definitely, deal with something this troublesome again.

                “I love you, babe!” In a moment, JJ’s back on him, arms rough against his neck; the chocolates and the shopping bag caught against their shoulders. Seung Gil grunts, shaking as he wraps his arms around the other’s waist, steadying the two. His boyfriend is so troublesome.

                “Get off me.”

                He better start making Valentine’s Day plans for next year.

**Author's Note:**

> this was going to be a super happy fic  
> it still is  
> but gosh darn am i bitter over ao3 being terrible


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